


The Final Rite

by Nickidemus



Category: The Craft (1996)
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nickidemus/pseuds/Nickidemus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nancy has one final line she wants to cross, and she's forcing the coven to cross with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final Rite

"It's just like our other meetings," Nancy assured them with her grin that always seemed to hold too much teeth. She was leading them through the trees, the sun slowly sliding down behind them into an orange and red array.

"You always have something in mind, Nancy," Sarah was quick to say.

Rochelle and Bonnie were loosening up since the extent of their powers had been revealed, their dreams slowly but surely coming true and nightmares vanishing. Yet Sarah seemed to close off more and more, a mystery to Nancy who felt like she could take to the air in a burst of flight, cackling like all those old legends swore up and down was a witch's way. But more. She could swoop up into all that black vacuum and swallow up a star and laugh about it, because it felt so fucking good to be as powerful as a god.

With this whirling through her head, Nancy could only suffer so much of cautious Sarah. "Will you get adventurous or get out?" she snarled, leading them deeper still.

They reached the spot, secluded and verdant and growing darker by the minute, and hastily put together a fire. Once this was done, Nancy ordered without hesitation, "take off your clothes."

There was a lot of glancing around, arms crossing more firmly over chests, and finally a blurted laugh from Rochelle. "Sorry?"

"Your clothes!" Nancy grinned, a look which held so much impatience they jumped. "Off! Get them off!" She was all but capering around the fire as she chanted shrilly, "off! Off! Off!"

Sarah was staring at her with eyes so blue and wet they only enraged Nancy more. "You can't ask us to--"

"This," Nancy hissed directly in her face, incapable of being gentle when Sarah seemed so much an ant beneath her boot. "This is about trust. Unity. Love. What we've always been about. It's a final, true joining. Minds. Souls. Hearts. And bodies, Sarah."

"But we did the blood..." Bonnie said, and not since her scars had been healed did she seem so meek.

"Not enough," Nancy said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Blood is the life. Sex is the lust, the one thing we haven't shared. And if any one of you says one more thing against it, you're out of the coven. I have the power to release you anytime I please, and I will." She turned her attention back on Sarah. "And we all know we don't want that. Do we, Sarah?"

Sarah's eyes never left hers, and even as she followed Nancy's orders, there was a definite aura of defiance about her. Her clothes made a rushing sound as they met the ground, revealing a strawberry blonde triangle of hair between her legs and heavy breasts. Nancy smiled, clearly pleased at this victory. She could hear the other two undressing, always taking their cues from her and Sarah because of their weak nature, then turned to see Bonnie's shapely, scar-free body and Rochelle's revealed softness as beautifully tinted as the trees around them.

"What about you?" Sarah asked, jutting her chin toward Nancy.

"Is that eagerness I hear?" Nancy teased, stepping back from them. "Call me sick..." She pulled a humorously wicked face. "But I think I'd like to watch."

Bonnie and Rochelle shared equally nervous and loud swallows, then edged toward each other. Neither seemed clear on how to approach such a situation, finding hands that had once held only signs of friendship were quick to roam when presented with these new hills and valleys to explore.

Sarah was transfixed as she watched them draw close, exchange quietly wet kisses, stimulate and shift and taste. Then she glued her eyes on Nancy. "What are you trying to prove? That you can make us do anything?"

"I'm not doing that," Nancy pointed out. "They are. You are." She slipped her black dress off, and it left her all in one piece.

Magic, Sarah reminded herself, then drew in a sharp breath when aggressive Nancy drew close and shoved a hand between her legs.

Without much preamble, they found their way into a ring of bodies, devouring this forbidden fruit the way they had run headfirst into every spell, every new sensation. This was only one more for a deliciously long list, and those moments when they touched the right spots together, there was a spark. Manon was there through Nancy, drawing between them, proving something of what she'd said had been true even if she hadn't quite known it herself. He was humming in the fire, snapping when breast brushed breast, when weeping cunts rubbed hotly together. When a finger brushed a nipple just so, when there was a cry made at just such a pitch, and when the four witches reached a throbbing climax together, Manon pulsed through them until the cold night felt like a spring day. The sweating, panting heap they made together didn't feel degrading or cold in this world where Manon had combined them. They shared their thoughts without words and breathed deep the night.

Nancy reveled in this until she became less of them and more herself, and then greedily snapped the power away. She stood and drew her dress on once more, sneering at them where they lay in the aftermath. For all her talk of unity, the moment had revealed how badly she wanted to be a leader among easily led swine, rejecting a beautiful moment out of hand.

"It's done," she said. "We've done all required of us."

Sarah sat up, watching her, amazed at the way she could leave the circle with such finality. She knew then that while they hung on, it was already over.


End file.
